


Let's Be Alone (Together)

by Anonymous



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Disabled Character, Fluff, Growing Up, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26717269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Mark Lee is Taeyong’s personal sun.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong
Kudos: 29
Collections: PRODEBUTER FEST - ROUND 01





	Let's Be Alone (Together)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Taeyong walks like a model, with his back impossibly straight, chin up, imposing and glorious, the very picture of an attractive man. Unruly brown hair falling over his forehead, messy but somehow stylish, a single long earring dangling from his right earlobe, cotton shirt with the sparkly logo of a band in the front and a plaid shirt over it, black skinny ripped jeans and black vans.

It’s not strange for people to fall for him, to develop a fleeting crush, a passing infatuation as they see him walking down the streets of the small city he lives in. It’s never love, of course, because to fall in love with Lee Taeyong you’d have to know him first and he is too much of a private person to let anyone know him or at least know him in a manner that matters. 

With his emo boy appeal, he refuses to accept his floppy hair is a fringe, when he walks inside the flower shop, brightly colored and sparkly, he stands out like a sore thumb. He smiles, trying to blend with the environment by looking a little bit more friendly and approachable. It seems to work because someone walks towards him almost immediately. 

“Can I help you?” one of the staff asks him, a girl with black hair and a kind expression on her rounded face. 

“Oh, yes, I am looking for er,” he scratches the nape of his neck, biting his lower lip as he thinks “…suckilents?”

The staff girl laughs softly, but not in a mean way. “Do you mean succulents?”

“I… I am not entirely sure” Taeyong admits with an apologetic look on his face “My boyfriend is next door, he’s buying kitchenware, and told me to choose some plants while he finishes paying. But well… I know nothing about plants.”

“I see,” she answers, smiling with something akin to mischief “Come, I’ll show you some succulents and you tell me if they are what you need.”

A few moments later, wearing a big yellow hoodie that swallows him down to his thighs, letting his fingers barely peek underneath the fabric of his cuffs, loose blue jeans and white vans, Mark Lee walks into the store. 

“About time, I’m going insane with the plants!” Taeyong says, stretching his arm to take Mark’s hand. 

The girl from the staff looks at him with her mouth hanging open. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” she asks. Taeyong looks at her with furrowed eyebrows but nods “Oh my, I didn’t… I didn’t think…”

“Hello, Heejin,” Mark greets, a happy grin on his face. The girl, apparently Heejin, smiles back, looking a little bit wary.

“Do you know each other?” Taeyong asks, looking at his boyfriend and the girl alternatingly. 

“Yeah, we went to school together,” Mark answers with a rueful smile, but then his attention is elsewhere, moving to stand on his tip toes and peeking over the bags of plants Taeyong has bought. “Well, show me the goods. I want to see what you have chosen for the haven.”

:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• 

In the years that have passed since they were young, eager and wild, everything has changed for them. The rush that the idea of adulthood once entrailed, all that adrenaline and joy of being in charge of your own life, now is more like the sound of static, dull and boring. A 9 to 5 job that consumes souls even when it is in your dream work field. Then there is the electricity bill, gas bill, water bill, phone bill, life is one big bill with a few free trials that won’t last longer than a few months. The thrill of living is suddenly subdued by the weight of the world. 

Luckily, one thing hasn’t changed: Mark Lee in yellow. 

In many cultures, yellow stands for freshness, happiness, positivity, clarity, energy, optimism, loyalty, and joy. It’s a beautiful color, present in so many wonders of nature, flowers, early morning sun, precious stones, and whenever he opens Mark’s wardrobe the color salutes him from every corner. From caps to socks, shirts to swimsuits, pants and hoodies, Mark really adores yellow and Taeyong adores seeing Mark in yellow. 

Everytime it rains there is a rainbow of colors in the sky, but yellow will always belong to Mark. And jumping into every puddle side by side to him always feels like an adventure, even when they are getting closer and closer to being 30. 

In the face of despair, yellow shines bright in the face of his beloved. After all, nothing can faze a boy who has suffered through hell once and twice and thrice, always walking out of the fire without the faintest trace of smoke. The only reason many are able to spot something bad has happened to him is his prosthetic leg, visible on warm summer days because no one wants to wear track pants in days of high humidity. 

It was an accident when he was 10. Early in the morning, cold and cloudy Saturday, a drunk driver ran over him when he was walking on the street holding his mother’s hand. He made it out alive, but he lost a leg and a mother, the woman gone almost instantly. It had been hell afterwards, with many surgeries and many painful rehabilitation processes. His father fell into depression soon after, his mind spiraling out of control until he decided that life was no longer worth living. He left behind an empty bottle of sleeping pills and an 11 years old boy with not many choices and too much baggage. 

Sweet Mark spent his father’s funeral in the hospital, ready for another surgery, and afterwards was left under the care of his grandmother. Grandma Lee was a kind woman and an even better baker. The summer Mark turned 14 she started to attend every Saturday to the same bible study group as Taeyong’s mom.

That’s how they met, just two bored teenagers in the uncomfortable benches of a church, no cellphones allowed and cringey posters in the walls trying to appeal to gen-z humor. Mark offered Taeyong a candy and Taeyong could have sworn he saw heaven in the boy’s sweet smile as he introduced himself. That day, Mark Lee taught Taeyong that grape bubblegum was delicious and that perhaps liking boys wasn’t so bad. After all Mark was a boy and Taeyong was pretty sure he was the best boy around. 

In the years they spent as friends, Taeyong learnt so much from and about Mark Lee. Mostly that Mark had two very distinct sides. One is preppy, happy, full of light, positive and earnest energy, always ready for adventure. The other one is no less wonderful, but it’s… darkened. It’s almost as if sweet and happy Mark goes through a solar eclipse, a shadow crossing over his life. It’s a shadow of fear and sadness, fear of abandonment, fear of being forgotten. Taeyong fell for the sun in his smile, yes, but he loved him even with the cloudy sky inside his heart. 

Mark’s therapy sessions began at 4pm and ended at 5:15pm, time Taeyong spent sitting in the therapist office’s reception, playing games on his phone and counting the coins in his pocket to buy an ice cream for Mark once the session was over. 

With each passing session, Mark seemed to change, evolve, slowly but surely. He had ups and downs, and he made sure to let Taeyong know. 

“Sorry if some days I seem distant,” Mark says, toying with the last bits of cheap pizza on his plate.

They are walking down the halls of an old arcade, looking for a good game to play together. Mark stops by the claw machines, watching the flashy colors as he eats his last bit of pizza and swallows it down with one last gulp of cherry flavored soda. Taeyong stands by his side, idly wondering if the machine would be too expensive, Mark seems to like the Pororo standing in the lower right corner. 

“I’m trying my best and Miss Kim says I’m doing better. But she also says that this will take time and…” he sniffs, drying his tears with the cuff of his long sleeves “I’m afraid no one will be there when I get better..” Mark finally says. 

Taeyong smiles, “I promise I’ll be there,” and for the first time in forever he hugs Mark, letting the younger boy deflate like a balloon, sobs muffled by the soft fabric of Taeyong’s hoodie.

A few weeks after, the therapist, Miss Kim herself, waves goodbye to them from the edge of her office and announces, with a wink and a sweet smile, “I think he is a good boy for you, Mark”. And if Mark blushes violently, Taeyong pretends not to notice and simply grabs his hand before asking him if he wants to go to his home to play Mario Party.

Taeyong went from a homophobic dude to a closeted gay? bisexual? to a openly bisexual boy with a pride flag in his room and everything. It took a while for his parents to accept him fully, for the deeply conservative family to understand that it didn’t make him any less of a man that he wanted to kiss another boy. His mother was the first one to ask him if he had a boyfriend and had gaped when Taeyong answered, ‘ _ Yes, his name is Mark, Grandma Lee’s grandson _ ’.

Needless to say, the town was surprised to see them walking around holding hands, two boys with entirely opposite auras (Taeyong wore black upon black and more black, while Mark’s bright colors shone like the sun on the clear day), eating ice cream together, playing in the park, talking over sandwiches and choosing which universities they would attend after high school was over. 

:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

The first time they slept together, Mark had just turned 18 and he asked Taeyong to kiss him in a bed instead of the old sofa of his living room like they always did. It was a tacky motel and probably a prostitute or two had been killed in these old rooms, but Mark seemed happy, blushing like a child but happy. 

Taeyong was terrified. But once they were in the bed, panting and desperate, Mark looked into his eyes and smiled, always gentle, always sweet, and said ‘I’m not crystal, I’m not going to break’ and when they kissed, Taeyong could have sworn he tasted heaven on his tongue. 

It has been a long time since then, but they haven’t lost their spark, bright and beautiful, enough to set ablaze the world. Each and everyday Taeyong stares at Mark as he cooks something, making Mark blush as their eyes meet and all Taeyong can say is “I’m so happy to have you.” More often than not, the food gets cold as Taeyong paints his desire over Mark’s beautifully pale throat. 

Mark Lee kisses like he does everything else in his life: with earnest energy, full of life, gently and leaving people hazy in his wake. It’s like a gathering storm, like the crackle of electricity in the night, thunder and lightning sparkling across the sky before the rain pours. And it’s often in those times, cuddling in a way too big bed, rain gently pouring outside, the distant sound of traffic keeping them awake along with a movie that they forgot to pay attention to half an hour ago. 

Taeyong is always surprised with how easy it is for Mark to knock the breath out of him, to leave him on the edge, happy and content but wanting so much more, a hand lodged between Taeyong’s shoulder blades, pressing him closer and closer until little sunshine Mark can sleep with his nose in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. And Taeyong is beyond blissed out for the opportunity and falling asleep slowly, that way he can watch Mark’s lips stretch into a sleepy smile when he presses a kiss to the crown of his head.

:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

When his brother says, as he helps him hauls his suitcase downstairs after a weekend-long winter holiday at their parents house, that he didn’t think his relationship would last so much, Taeyong is beyond fazed, one eyebrow quipped up and lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. 

“Hey, don’t look at me like that” his brother says, raising his hands with a laugh on his lips “It’s just that, I don’t know… everyone said you were out of his league.” 

Taeyong then rolls his eyes “Again with that, what does that even mean?”

“What does what mean?” Mark asks, walking down the stairs, jumping the last two steps and landing next to Taeyong. 

He is wearing a hideous sweater, red and green with crochet-made antlers sewn into them. Even if it’s awful, Taeyong can’t help but smile because he looks so soft and cuddly. He wraps his right arm around Mark’s waist, pressing him closer to him. Taeyong can’t wait until they are seated in the bus so he can cuddle his living teddy bear to his heart’s content. 

“That you came over this holiday season” Taeyong’s brother lies, because that is what everyone does when they don’t want to tell Mark how low they think of him. As if there is anything to think low of Mark Lee. “Does it make it official? Are you a Lee-Lee?”

Mark smiles and looks at his boyfriend with those pretty brown eyes that never fail to make him melt, tugging at every single one of Taeyong’s heartstrings, playing with them a secret love song that only they know. 

“I sure hope so,” he says. Taeyong nods enthusiastically, leaning to kiss him. 

When they are alone, comfortably seated in the uncomfortable bus seats, legs covered in a shared blanket, Mark holds Taeyong’s hand really tight, like he always does when he needs reassurance. There is no other sign of discomfort or sadness, face calm as he reads his favourite novel on a kindle, but when you know someone for as long as they know each other, you can tell the meaning of even the smallest gestures. 

Taeyong knows, feels it deep inside his soul, that if someone is out of someone’s league is Mark out of Taeyong’s league. Because in reality no one deserves a boy as wonderful as Mark Lee. He leans his head on Mark’s shoulders and tells him to go back to the last page, he missed the dialogue.

:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

“I love you so much,” Taeyong says in the darkness of their room, only one small lamp illuminating their flushed skin. 

It’s late and both of them have to work in the morning, but Mark had asked Taeyong over dinner, with glossy eyes and lower lip trapped between his teeth, if he thought they were truly a good match and Taeyong couldn’t let the love of his life fall asleep without knowing just how much he loves him. 

With their hectic schedules and how tired they often are, Taeyong and Mark frequently have what they call ‘reconnecting 11pm sex’, which is hot and messy, clothes spilled from the front door to the edge of their bed, and both of them love it. It’s a good way to remind each other that they are still there, still belong to each other as much as they did in the morning.

But on days like this, when doubt wanders into Mark’s mind like an unwanted guest, Taeyong does what lovers do, make slow and sickenly sweet love to the only man he has ever wanted in his bed. 

It always works, making love in between sheets that smell of the citrusy fabric softener Mark loves so much, with his head resting in the softest of pillows, Taeyong hovering over him, hips to hips, chest to chest, lips to lips. It’s sweet and silly sometimes, because Mark can’t help but laugh, smile and moan happily, answering Taeyong’s love declarations with broken sentences and ardently delivered kisses. 

It’s good like this, Taeyong feeling as loved as he wants his boyfriend to feel. 

He would have made him his husband by now, the law being pretty friendly with two dudes getting rings and making a whole day of partying just to celebrate, but Mark always says he doesn’t care about papers as long as Taeyong loves him. 

And so Taeyong loves him, loves him so much that some days he feels his heart will explode. And he proves his love with kisses and caresses, with languid thrusts and breathy yet dirty words, but also with orange juice and perfectly toasted bread for breakfast, delivered to their bed when they have a free day, with remembering that Mark’s favourite pair of headphones is broken and buying a new set on his way home, with sharing shirts and hoodies and pants and hats, with telling everyone he meets how lucky he is to be loved by a man as wonderful as Mark Lee is. 

Because, at the end of the day, stretched out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn resting on the coffee table and a living-breathing yellow hoodie half draped over his torso and legs, prosthetic abandoned by the side of the sofa because ‘it felt itchy today’, Taeyong can’t imagine any other thing than this, can’t get himself to wish any other thing. 

When his cute twenty six years old boyfriend smiles at him, Taeyong smiles back, peppering his cute little face with rapid fire kisses until Mark’s laugh is too much to handle and he smothers it with lip kisses that turn into a lazy makeout session that leads to nothing but still makes them forget about the movie. 

:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• 

The morning of his twenty-eight birthday, Taeyong wakes up with Mark draped over his chest, the lazy morning sun creeping into their room through half open curtains and bathing their skin in gentle golden haze. It makes him feel loved, it makes him feel warm, but not because the sun is particularly bright, but rather because Mark’s heart is beating right next to his own heart, synching and running like one.

It’s cheesy, yes, but Mark Lee is Taeyong’s personal sun and no clouds, no bad days can’t dampen the love he feels for the sunlight that basks over him every morning. 

“Good morning,” Taeyong says, kissing Mark’s forehead. 

“Good morning,” Mark answers, slithering upwards a little bit more, the stump of his leg brushing over Taeyong’s thigh. “Wake up fully so you can have birthday sex before work”. 

Taeyong laughs but he is still up and ready in record time.

:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:


End file.
